Running Up That Hill
by RogueOakenshield
Summary: What would you give in order to save the one you love? Would you be ready to have your places swapped? This is an alternate end/continuation to series 9 wherein Lucas North somehow survives his fall from Enver tower... This is my first MI5/Spooks fanfic, please be kind (feedback greatly appreciated!) Lucas N. x O.C. I own nothing (sadly...)
1. It Doesn't Hurt Me

Running Up That Hill

A crowd had rapidly gathered around the scene. Women screaming in fright, men lifting their hands heavenwards, phone calls being made to get an ambulance, the police, anyone…

Blood, so much of it flowing sluggishly over the misshapen car, broken glass everywhere and that lifeless body lying over it like a broken doll. Was it really possible for a human being to have so much blood inside them? Could it be possible for a body to stay jointed after such a fall? Blood was dripping from under the hand that was hanging from the roof of the car, a pool of it slowly forming under the head, under the body positioned as if in deep sleep, the face only half hidden, revealing strangely serene features. No movement could be perceived from the body, not the tiniest rise and fall of its chest, nothing.

Sounds of sirens erupted from the corner of the street. Soon, an army of paramedics and policemen were gathering around the car, setting a perimeter around it, shooing people away and calming crying women. Another medical unit immediately joined the first and doctors were rushing to the scene taking in the man lying on top of the broken car, steps barely faltering at the sight offered, heads rising up to consider the building from which the man had most certainly fallen. Gloved fingers gently touched the hanging hand, feeling for a pulse and finding none, feet climbing cautiously on the hood of the car trying to give their owner a clearer view and hands again reaching, voices calling and dread filling every heart.

Then suddenly, a faint move on the left side of the prone man's throat, barely there and unsteady: a pulse.

OoOoOoOoO

There were voices faraway, movement all around him and the feeling that he had smashed hard into something; the sight of the ground plunging towards him…a grey car, something so unexpected. Everything seemed so hazy. Harry's voice was ringing in his head...Words were blurred, his mind suddenly fragmented. Nothing existed anymore, not even the sweet face carved behind his closed eyelids. All he knew was that he was falling, that everything hurt, and then all of a sudden there was nothing.

Soft, gentle fingers touched him lightly, soothing the ache growing within him. They were light and cool and altogether welcome against his burning flesh. It was hard to breathe, not enough air coming his way. It was just so difficult to get air inside. But he tried to keep it coming in and out. Suddenly, it was all that mattered: breathing. So he did just that. He could hear voices but he couldn't make out the words they were saying, there were a lot of voices and everything just seemed so far away. He was tired now, so tired…he just wanted to go to sleep. So he did just that.

OoOoOoOoO

Alarms started going off inside the operating room. Two angry red flat lines appeared on one of the screens, launching the medical team into action. Two sets of hands were busy putting gaze in the open body lying on the table, another one was trying to stitch an artery back together where it had ruptured, another one suctioning the excess blood pooled in the open abdomen, another one looking for a leak behind what was left of the liver, kidneys, another one keeping other internal organs out of the way. Four minutes passed much in the same fashion, then another, all of those feeling like a little eternity…Then finally the red lines flared back to green again with a very slow oscillation: up, down…up, down…up, down… The worst of the damage was far from being repaired, if it could ever be, but still the body on the table kept pulling air into itself releasing it slowly but surprisingly steadily, with the same determination as a newborn child: in, out…in, out…in, out…

OoOoOoOoOoO

There wasn't any kind of movement around him anymore. He had heard sirens and then more voices and then felt something pulling at his insides, grabbing mercilessly. Then his head had felt strange, as if it had been opened up and stuffed with…something. He could feel something hard holding his skull together. Little by little he became aware that there was more to himself than just his head and his insides. He suddenly knew he was supposed to have a body as well.

There was a dull ache where his legs should be and his arm was bent at an awkward angle as if folded upon itself. He tried to move then, tried to at least open his eyes, but it was pointless, and it all just hurt too much. The darkness kept pulling him back, trying to make him forget that he had a body…that something had happened to him. He felt something inside of him shift and then there was nothing but bright nothingness.

OoOoOoOoOoO

The alarms blared out again, signaling the nurses and doctors on watch that the unconscious man lying in the bed at the end of the corridor was crashing yet again. Pouches of blood and fluids were pushed aside, the head of the bed was lowered for the third time that night and pads were once more attached to the man's tattooed chest shocking him back to life. Once…Twice…Three times…Four times…There…There…he was back.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Something was being attached to his chest. Hands lifting him far above the ground and… then, before he could form any coherent thought, he felt it, like molten steel coursing through his entire body with lightening speed, making him want to scream, making him want to cower away to the darkest part of his mind and stay there. The first time was unbearable, feeling like he was dying. The second time was less of a shock but still made him feel like he was being torn open in two, starting from his chest. The third time felt like nothing, his mind having shut down with the force of the pain raging through him. Again, emptiness swallowed him.


	2. The Deal I'm Making

The first thing he felt was bright light assaulting his closed eyelids and something heavy and warm all around him. He tried to move his left hand but found out he couldn't, tried to move his legs but for much the same result. His right hand though was able to touch and feel cloth underneath him and some kind of blanket over him. Something around his abdomen felt tight and scratchy, making it a little hard to breathe. His head felt like it was full of lead. Ever so slowly, he forced his eyes open.

He was right about the bright light, it was all around him, the cloth, he discovered, was a simple white sheet covering what appeared to be a bed. There were wires and tubes attached to his chest and arm, and something inside his mouth ventilating air into his sore lungs. The mere thought of it made him panic, like he was being tortured…yet again? He started choking and coughing hard, trying to get the blue tube out of his throat and mouth with his good hand, with no success. When he thought he was going to choke to death, he felt a most welcome set of hands pushing on his shoulders urging him to lie back down and gently pulling the offending plastic tube out while a soft voice instructed him to breathe through his nose as much as he could and relax his throat. The voice was as foreign as it was familiar. Once free, he tried to speak but nothing came out. His throat felt extremely sore and dry now that the plastic tube was out. His tongue came out in an attempt at bringing some kind of moisture to his mouth but it was as dry as sand paper. The same pair of hands helped him lift his head and guided a plastic cup to his dry lips and he most eagerly drank a few blessed sips from it.

Clearing his throat, he tried to speak again but the words tumbling out of his mouth didn't make any sense. Confused and more than a little alarmed at the failed tentative, he tried again only to have the same shapeless sounds fall from his lips. Terror started to tie knots in his stomach and his eyes frantically searched for something to focus on, trying to find back some semblance of composure. He didn't know where he was, didn't know what was happening to him and he felt himself close to panicking. That's when he noticed the feminine face hovering only inches from his. The gentle set of brown eyes looking down at him with no small amount of concern, was enough to help calm him. Gentle fingers once again pushed against his shoulders, gently touching his forehead, his hair, the gesture strangely comforting and familiar. He saw them reaching into a pocket to retrieve a small flash light and directing it to each of his eyes. Once the blinding light was put away, he took his time studying the features of the woman talking to him. Large brownish black eyes, small straight nose and generous sensual lips in a small rounded face that made her look like she was in her late teens. But the white coat and stethoscope she was wearing indicated that it was highly improbable. She was a doctor, with a kind face and soft, gentle hands. He heard her voice then, trying to make sense of what she was saying. It was unbelievably hard to do so. She spoke too fast and the words she used were too difficult to comprehend. He tried to tell her so, but once again the words he spoke turned into an indistinguishable flurry of grave, misshapen sounds. He looked at the doctor then, frustration and panic written in his blue eyes. The doctor spoke again but much slower and this time he understood.

"I am Dr. Morgan James. You are at the Royal London Hospital. Do you remember what happened to you, Mr. North?"

Fearing that his speech would be as inefficient as three minutes ago, he just settled to shaking his head 'no' with difficulty. Truth be told, he didn't remember how he had ended up in a hospital. With growing horror, he realized that he didn't remember much at all, not even his own name, and whoever that 'Mr. North' was, he didn't sound familiar at all. The doctor helpfully pursued.

"You were in an accident about five weeks ago. You have been into a prolonged coma since then." The young doctor paused, assessing the man's reaction to her words. When she was sure she still had his attention, she went on.

"It appears that..." the woman paused, somehow hesitant to continue, but then she squared her shoulders and pushed on. "All ribs on your left side have sustained severe damage; your collarbone is broken in four different places. Both of your legs are broken in twelve different places and your pelvis has also been badly damaged. You have also sustained important damage to your skull and spine as well as your left arm which is broken in five different places. You have sustained severe head trauma which probably explains why you are having difficulties with your speech right now, but that will require further examination. We will take you back to scan and MRI in a moment and make some more tests and see where we go from there."

He wasn't sure he understood everything the lady doctor had said.

So he had some kind of accident…That was clear enough. But just what kind of accident left you as damaged as he was? He was completely broken! From the corner of his eye, he noticed a short, balding man standing in the corridor just outside the door, talking to another doctor. There was something about him that triggered a wave of pain that soon consumed both his mind and his body as a voice kept ringing in his head…'I am nothing…'He wanted to scream, he needed to scream, but he couldn't.

"Hey there, are you alright?!" he heard the young doctor next to him say, feeling her hands running quickly over him checking for his pulse and breathing. The kind and light touches calmed him almost instantly and he wondered at that, her fingers feeling both foreign and familiar, just like her voice. He slowly got control of his erratic breathing trying to accommodate the sudden pang of pain that flashed through his lower back but found out he could barely move at all. He gave the doctor standing next to him a pained look and he fought hard not to let out the hurt groan rising up in his ravaged throat, and failing miserably.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Alarmed by the sudden ashen color of the man's face and the pain filled groan he let out, the young woman rushed to the I.V. hooked to his arm and sped the drip-dropping of the clear liquid containing a morphine-based solution and the man's face relaxed immediately and found its colors back, much to her relief.

She waited a few minutes before continuing her long description of the procedures that had been performed on him in order to save his life. Waiting until he seemed to be focusing on her again she went on in a gentle tone, trying to be as considerate as she could without forgetting she was a doctor talking to a patient, and she knew that part would be the hardest. Looking briefly at her chart, taking a deep steadying breath, she spoke again.

"Despite the consequent amount of bone damage, the internal damage is what worried us the most. We've had to remove your spleen and part of your… intestines…and liver as they have literally exploded on impact and were causing extensive bleeding in your abdomen…You've also had kidney transplant…" As she said so, she exposed x-rays and scans of said damage in order to illustrate her point. The expression on the man's face was unreadable. He didn't seem to understand a single word she was saying. He didn't seem to be there at all. She continued on nonetheless, her heart constricting painfully as she tried to get a hold of her own emotions.

"…Your heart has also sustained heavy damage but we've been able fix it by adding a bridge in your atrial node and closing the tear between the two ventricles. Your lungs, though have given us pause and that's why you were intubated up until now, but your breathing seems to be doing far better than we'd first hoped as your left lung has been punctured by broken ribs, but as I said, we'll need to get further examination done. "

Hanging more x-rays and scans on the clear light screen, she went to explain more about the orthopedic procedures that had been performed on the man, his bruised face a mask of horror, confusion and most clearly panic.

"We have realigned both of your legs and strengthened the bones with steel rods that keep them together at these sections…" The doctor said pointing out innumerable marks on the first two x-rays. "We did much the same with the lower part of your spine and both of your hips. Your ribs and collar bone have also been realigned and strengthened. The bruising and cuts to the left side of your face haven't necessitated stitching and won't be leaving scars. The left side of your head though, required two different procedures. One to suction the excess blood and fluids that had accumulated from the impact and one to seal back the gash you can see here. "

There, it was done, she had explained everything. The man was fighting back tears by now, lips trembling and eyes wide with shock and she felt herself falter at the sight. Had she been too clinical about all this? She had never seen so many procedures exacted on just one person. How was she supposed to do this? This situation was proving much harder than she'd originally thought. She wanted to be calm and composed during this but it was clear to her now that she just couldn't. She tried to take her mind back from the memories of that fateful day, but then again failed.

There'd been a full team of five trained surgeons plus four more interns and five nurses tending to him as he lay on the table that day. She was a general surgeon and although she'd been trained and used to see all kinds of things happen in an operating room, she couldn't help but feel out of her depth as far as this man was concerned. The man was supposed to be dead, clear and simple. How could anyone survive such a fall? According to the file she'd had, the man had sustained a fall from the top of Enver Tower, and there he was still alive… At first there seemed to be too much damage to try and do anything at all. Where were they supposed to start? She had never witnessed anything like this. But she just couldn't stand there and do nothing.

Looking at him now, it was hard for her to believe that he had almost died at list four times the first night, his body going into shock every few hours, still not believing that it wasn't dead, and doing what it could to put itself in a state where it couldn't be overtaxed anymore. Experience had proven that no human being could sustain more than three heart arrests in a row, and yet, the man laying just inches from her had gone through arrest five times.

She had prayed that day. She was not religious, not by any means. But there'd been so much blood…The blood-soaked gurney, wheeled full speed in the E.R. corridors and straight to the first available operating room was all that she saw at first, not believing that there actually was a human being laying on it. Then she saw the handsome face, the eyes closed as if in deep sleep, the peaceful expression of his face, then the black hair matted with half-clotted blood, and all she could think was that even though she didn't know who this man was or what had happened to him, she would do anything she could to see him open his eyes again. Even now, she would be hard pressed to explain why she had felt that way. As a doctor, caring for a patient was a necessity, something that could change the odds, but with this man, something was different. Seeing him at the gates of Death had pulled _hard_ at something inside her.

The seventeen-hour long first operation had been a hard won battle. The man had crashed several times during the invasive procedures, his body just trying to shut itself down, but he would just keep breathing, fighting, and then she knew she couldn't let him go. When they had started taking things out of his body, then when his legs, hips and arm were being realigned, then when the gash in his skull was being sealed back…He'd been cut open so many times she had almost lost hope. But then again he was breathing, his heart beating weakly, but still he was breathing. And now, weeks later, here he was, breathing still…and for the very first time, awake.

She once again checked his vitals and his bandages, checked the I.V. drop and the blood pouch, trying to keep herself busy, hiding the tears forming in her eyes, and was making out for the door when she felt his hand on her wrist, the gesture sending jolts of electricity through her body. She turned around at the cool touch on her skin to meet the man's gaze, and such an intense gaze it was. She had never seen such a deep shade of blue, as clear as a mid-summer sky but only a bit paler and her heart almost stopped at the sight. His fingers tightened slightly and then let her go, the message conveyed without words.

"You're welcome." Was all she said, emotions thick in her lowered voice.

She looked again into the man's azure eyes, reveling in their clear depths, those eyes that she had so desperately wanted to see and for half a second, she let herself drown in those orbs, hoping to never reach the surface again.

Her back turned to the man, Dr. Morgan James let the tears run freely down her face, emotions raging inside her. She wasn't in control of herself anymore, she was fighting a losing battle with herself and the feelings threatening to make her chest explode, all of those caused by the man whose life she had saved. Her feet found a will of their own, guiding her to the closest exit door. Once in the safety of the empty stairway, she let herself fall to the ground, hands over her mouth, forcing the sobs back inside. Never had she experienced such strong feelings. She couldn't even start to put words on the whirlwind of emotions endangering her sanity. Was it the watchful nights spent at his bedside, hoping against hope that his eyes would open again one day? Was it the hours spent in procedures, fighting despair at the amount of damage he had sustained, praying to every god she'd ever heard of that he would somehow survive? Was it the fear that inhabited her soul every time she heard the alarm of the machines monitoring him? Was it the vow she had made to herself to never let him go?

Something had happened that day, and she realized only now that it might change the course of her entire life. She didn't want to feel those things, she didn't want to have those thoughts, she didn't want to care so much. She should have stepped back, let someone else take over. But her fate had been sealed the moment she laid eyes on the peaceful features, the moment she felt her heart constrict at the sight of his blood, the moment she started to care.


End file.
